


Vices with no Virtues

by PretentiousCoffee



Category: No Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Cutting, Random & Short, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 14:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3329780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PretentiousCoffee/pseuds/PretentiousCoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A descriptive paragraph of how it feels to have self-harm as a vice.</p><p>"Cutting... Even in writing, it still feels like a forbidden word."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vices with no Virtues

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random brain-child that I wanted to post, it was starting to collect dust in my document folder.

Cutting....

Even in writing, it still feels like a forbidden word. I don't remember what urged me to begin this toxic habit; however I know all too well why it keeps me coming back for more.  
It starts off with one incident. One slight mess up, one slip of the tongue, or even one careless comment sends me down the spiraling abyss of self loathing. The one unpleasant memory of my screw up begins to churn restlessly in the dark recesses of my mind bringing with it abhorred thoughts of worthlessness and self pity. I fight to push my detestable internal thoughts to the back of my mind in order to maintain my calm, happy facade on the outside; I cannot deal with them in such a public forum. As I lay in my bed recollecting the events of the day, the detestable thoughts slowly begin to claw its way to the forefront of my head dragging with it overwhelming feelings of hopelessness. The first contact of blade on my skin disperses all of the menacing thoughts and brings a sense of calm throughout my mind. The following strokes bring a comforting tingling sensation throughout my body, reassuring me that everything’s going to be okay. I take a moment and relish the fleeting moment of peace. As the high begins to dissipate, I can feel it dragging me down back to the bane of my existence. Feelings of disgusts and shame begin to wash over me, drowning me. And just like that, the cycle begins again.  
There is no happy ending to this story, I wish I could write about how I fought and won my battle however that’s not true. This vice will be with me all my life, constantly tempting me, urging for just one more stroke.


End file.
